Well, another week has gone by and I spent all day Sunday after church working in my craft room. I have a new sewing amchine that came in- a new surger. My husband spent four hours putting it together the other night. So it is together, but I need to make room in my sewing room for it.
I ordered some shelving that is going to hold the majority of my fabric. I have way too much fabric, about seventy five bolts (just at home, not counting what is at the store). I have two shelves coming in. They are six feet wide by seven feet high. They should be here tomorrow so that I can start getting everything in place.
Then I am going to stick the new sewing machine in the middle of the floor and put my cutting area right next to it, which will hopefully give me enough room to walk around it. Plus I will be able to sew and cut at the same time (Yes, I am wonderwoman! Haha).
I also need room for my coverstitch machine which I am still trying to figure out.
I am so excited about my new machine though; I tried it out today and it works beautifully, and it is so quiet that you do not even realize that it is running. It is unbelievable.
Now I can start on all my new products. I already started on my swaddle blankets today. I have a new fabric from Micheal Miller with gorgeous colors. I prewashed some of it to see what it would look like/ feel like. It came out really soft and crinkly and just lush.
Well, I guess that is all for now. I just wanted to tell you about my new room and sewing machine. I will post a picture when it gets done.
Susan
Artist’s Life
by
Wheeler Wilcox
Of all the waltzes the great Strauss wrote,
mad with melody, rhythm–rife
From the very first to the final note,
Give me his “Artist’s Life!”
It stirs my blood to my finger ends,
Thrills me and fills me with vague unrest,
And all that is sweetest and saddest blends
Together within my breast.
It brings back that night in the dim arcade,
In love’s sweet morning and life’s best prime,
When the great brass orchestra played and played,
And set our thoughts to rhyme.
It brings back that Winter of mad delights,
Of leaping pulses and tripping feet,
And those languid moon-washed Summer nights
When we heard the band in the street.
It brings back rapture and glee and glow,
It brings back passion and pain and strife,
And so of all the waltzes I know,
Give me the “Artist’s Life.”
For it is so full of the dear old time–
So full of the dear friends I knew.
And under its rhythm, and lilt, and rhyme,
I am always finding–you.
Razberry Threads 